One Last Candle
by zookitty
Summary: It was his “gift”. The ability to see the color of a person, literally. The emotions and characteristics of the person floated about them like an aura, but only he could see it. Bridge Carson hated his gift. -Hiatus-
1. Chapter 1: The Gift

**Season: **SPD**  
**

**Characters: **Bridge, Sky, Syd, Crougar, Kat**  
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**AN: **Hey everyone, this is my first full length Power Ranger story (though I've started a few in the past). Four chapters are already done so updates will be quick. This was written for the **prunited** forum's **Eating Disorder Challenge**, and won first place in round 1. (I'm so excited!) The second part is due in May, but I hope to have it done much sooner. Anyway enough rambling, please enjoy!

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_To suppress the most basic needs is to strangle oneself—more slowly, but no less effectively than poison, a blade to the artery, a bullet aimed at the brain."-Laura Collins _

**_Part 1 _**

**Chapter 1: The Gift **

"Bridge Carson…is there a Bridge Carson here?"

The lanky teenager looked up, his dark brown hair falling over his eyes. He pulled himself up from the stiff metal chair and walked toward the tall doctor.

"My name is Dr. Stevens," the man said, offering his hand to the teenager only to be refused. The doctor settled for laying his hand on Bridge's shoulder. "Are you alone, son?" Bridge cast a weary glance at the waiting room.

"Yes…I'm alone."

--

Bridge pushed the door shut and cringed as it slammed, the sound vibrating through his already pounding head. No one was home, but he had not expected them to be. No one was ever home. As much as the loneliness was suffocating, he did relish the quiet—it was the one time in his day that the overwhelming force of other people's emotions did not reverberate in his head.

It was his "gift". The ability to see the color of a person, literally. The emotions and characteristics of the person floated about them like an aura, but only he could see it.

Bridge Carson hated his gift.

Along with this ability came the constant onslaught of their emotions into his head. And despite the fact it came in handy now and then, it was no gift to see people as they truly are. Every malicious, hateful, racist, vengeful or sadistic feeling was not hidden from him.

Sometimes it was not bad. Sometimes it was even a little helpful. Sometimes he could even ignore it. It was only a quiet, but constant mummer in the back of his mind. But then there were the moments when his hand brushed across someone else's, or he bumped into their shoulder…everything would come crashing in on him.

With a sigh Bridge rubbed his temples. At first he had tried to hide it, but it was no passing fluke. Finally he panicked and ran to his parents. At first they were shocked, but that quickly turned to shame and anger. Shame. Ashamed of him…

He sauntered to his room and sunk down on the bed, covering his eyes. The trip to the doctor had not been nearly as helpful as he had hoped. Dr. Stevens _had_ explained that this gift was nothing to worry about, but it was part of who he was and there was no way to get rid of it.

He felt his pocket for the card. Stevens said he should call that number, but Bridge wondered why it mattered. The lady doctor he recommended would help Bridge, but even she would not be able to fix him.

No one could.

Bridge was not sure how much time passed before he pulled himself up and slunk out of his room. The waning sunlight through the windows provided the only illumination in the house. With a discontented sigh the teenager made his way toward the kitchen, his hand subconsciously going into his pocket. He felt the piece of paper against his fingers. He glanced at the number and grabbed the phone impulsively.

"Hello?"

Bridge scrunched his brow. That did not sound like a receptionist.

"Hellooo?"

"Is Dr. Manx there?" Bridge asked.

"That's me," the friendly female voice replied. "What do ya need?"

"I…was told to call you…by Dr. Stevens."

"Really? Well he should have told you to _call_ me Kat." Bridge could almost hear the smile in her voice.

--

Bridge was never ill mannered. Bizarre on occasion, but never intentionally rude, but when he met Doctor Katharine "Kat" Manx, Bridge gapped. It was not her appearance—he had seen cat ears and alien features like hers before—but there was an entirely different reason for his shock.

She had asked to meet him outside the Ranger Academy, but he had never dreamed that she was in fact part of the Rangers. She smiled, flashing her pointed teeth.

"Bridge Carson?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. Bridge felt calm radiating from her. She was trustworthy, at least for now.

"I have a few questions for you," she explained, jumping to the point. "Care to walk?" He nodded and followed as she began down the sidewalk. "How long have you noticed this ability?"

"It's been six months since it first manifested," Bridge explained, his brown eyes becoming distant.

"And how old are you?"

"Thirteen and a hundred and twenty-seven days," he replied flippantly. Kat smiled but didn't comment.

"I know Dr. Stevens mentioned that this gift is nothing to worry about, but I want to take that a step farther," Kat said, turning to face him. "You're not alone in this. Many students at the Academy have powers similar to yours." She watched as Bridge looked at her, his face was wrought with conflict but held a certain innocence just beneath the surface. He seemed entirely trusting, and at the same time unsure. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I would like very much to see how your gift works."

"You keep calling it that," Bridge pointed out, then looked quickly away. "Sorry."

"No, go ahead…what were you going to say?" Kat probed.

"Just that, it doesn't seem much like a gift to me," Bridge explained "That's the way you see it, but I don't see it that way. It gets in the way and makes things more difficult. It's like this book I was reading… 'It doesn't matter how they look at you, it's how you look at them'. You know what I mean?" Kat narrowed her eyes in confusion.

Before she could respond a loud bang sounded off to the side. Their eyes darted to the source of the noise. A grotesque creature with limbs like wet noodles bellowed with rage. Kat narrowed her eyes.

"We've got trouble," she whispered. "Bridge, I want you to stay down ok?" With that she jumped up and ran closer to the scene, speaking into a communicator as she ran. Bridge kneeled down, using a park bench for cover. The monster was destructive, but obviously lacking in intelligence. Its arms slashed and stretched causing sever damage to the park.

People were screaming and running in every direction. The once serene square was turned into a chaotic mess. Bridge felt his heart banging against his rib cage, but not with fear. No, it went much deeper than his fear. His heart pounded with a need he could not explain.

He could see Kat trying to distract the creature, biding her time until the Rangers arrived. The monster, however, seemed to be distracted by something else. The teenager narrowed his eyes. There was a young girl sitting in the park, howling with sobs. The vile beast was heading right for her.

Bridge glanced at Kat. She would never get there in time. It was now or never. Swallowing his fear the teenager leapt up and ran toward the girl. Bridge kicked his heels into the ground and thrust himself toward the girl, knocking her out of the way, just as the creature swung. Though the arm looked like a limp noodle it felt like a jagged blade as it cut into his unprotected back.

Bridge could not stifle a cry as he fell, landing protectively over the girl. Scared blue eyes met his.

"Run," he whispered breathlessly. The little girl obeyed, taking off with speed only a child could muster. Bridge rolled out of the way just in time, the arm slapping harmlessly into the ground beside him.

Streaks of color filled his blurry vision as shouts rang out, and Bridge knew the Rangers had arrived. He laid his head back against the soft grass. Somewhere in his foggy mind he wondered why the pain was no longer so profound, but the thought quickly disappeared and he let go to the darkness around his vision.

TBC

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	2. Chapter 2: Into Place

**AN: **Hugs and thank yous to everyone who reviewed (replies are at the end of the story). Thank you all so much. Sorry it took my so long...you see I'm quite the absent minded writter.-laughs- Alright I hope you all like this chapter...more young angst Bridge! Woohoo**  
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**Chapter 2: Into Place **

Bridge's vision slowly cleared. Everything was white. It smelled like medicine, and there seemed to be the distant beeping of machines. 

"Welcome back," a friendly voice saidBridge turned slowly, seeing the face of Dr. Kat Manx. "You've been out for almost a day now." The teenager ran a hand across his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"A little like I did the day I tried to discover just how bouncy those sour candy ropes really are," he responded. Kat raised her eyebrow, but did not dare to ask. Bridge pushed himself up, feeling fiery pain explode across his back. 

Seeing the grimace on his face, Kat laid a hand on his shoulder. She helped him sit up enough to lean back on the pillows. 

"That was a brave thing you did, Bridge," Kat said softly. 

"Is the little girl ok?" he asked, concern sweeping his features. 

"She's doing just fine," she replied," thanks to you." Bridge smiled, his cheeks flushing red. "You should be fine as well," Kat went on. "As soon as you get orientated I'll take you home. You have stitches in your back for now, so you need to be careful and not do anything to strenuous but I see you've already realized that," she commented as he cringed in pain. 

"I'm fine," he replied faintly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Get some rest; I'll be by to take you home later."

--

Bridge leaned back against the soft car seat. Kat seemed to be lost in thought as they drove. Which was fine with him, as the pain medication was making it hard for him to think at all. 

"Bridge?" Kat said, suddenly breaking the silence. "There's something I want to ask you."

"hmmm?" he mumbled an inquiry. 

"That thing you did for the little girl. It was extremely heroic."

"That's not a question," Bridge commented, never to tired to be his normal observant self. Kat stopped the car, pulling over to the side of the road. She turned to face him, looking straight into his dark eyes.

"I would like to request you a place in the RangerAcademy."

Bridge turned to her, suddenly very awake. 

"What?"

"Well technically you're too young for the actually academy, but I want to try and get you into the Prep school." Bridge could feel the medication kicking in, and he wondered if all of this was a painkiller induced dream. "Would you like that?" she asked. 

He was vaguely aware of himself agreeing as he slipped once again from consciousness. 

--

It had been two weeks sense then and everything had just fallen into place. With Kat pulling strings it was easy to get accepted into the Prep School. Now the hard part had arrived. 

"You? A power…ranger?" His mom did not even try to hide the skepticism in her voice. 

"Kat thinks with training I could…" Bridge began to defend.

"That's ridiculous kid," his dad cut in. "Look at yourself Bridge…" 

The words blurred into a haze. He did not need to hear them. He had heard them a thousand times before. He was too weak, too stupid, too lazy, too craven. He felt their negativity vibrating through him, pounding in his head. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to block the pain, but he could still feel it. He could still hear their bitter words.

"I don't know why I thought you would understand!" he snapped, taking off up the stairs. They never understood. He slammed the door loudly. They did not care. 

He stumbled to the mirror, looking at his reflection. He was still pale from the encounter with that alien a few weeks back. He gazed into the reflective glass at the gangly teenager in front of him.

They were right. He was too weak. He was more out of shape than he had ever been and he had never been overly brave. He bit his lip, a sense of inadequacy filling him. He felt the weight of their disapproval, increased by the keenness of his ability. Had he really been fooling himself this whole time? With a cry of anger he punched the glass in front of him. 

Bridge had always been a strange kid. His logics made little sense to those around him. But at the very least he was always in control, always behaved, and never letting his emotions get the better of him. Never until that night.

Feeling a strange confidence from his anger, Bridge waited until he was sure everyone was asleep. He crept slowly down the stairs, a duffle bag over his shoulder and registration forms in his hand. He snuck into his father's home office taking out a signed paper, he studied the writing. Bridge barely kept his hand from shaking as he faked his father's signature. 

Everything was falling into place. He would go to RangerPrep school, and train until he could enter the Academy. He would become a Power Ranger. He would prove his parents wrong. 

His parents would not look for him. He did not matter, that much was clear. His signature was almost identical to his father's and the school had no reason to believe otherwise. Kat had managed to get him a scholarship, so money would not be a problem. It was also a boarding school and Kat had told him it was fine to arrive early, so tomorrow he would not have to worry about where to stay. And until then…well he was still figuring that out.

He forced himself to shut the front door quietly. Rain poured down, soaking into his clothes as he walked. Bridge liked the rain. Its constant rhythm was always soothing when he argued with his parents. He glanced back at the house with mixed feelings as he realized that would be their last argument for a long time. He squared his shoulders and walked on.

It was dark and Bridge realized he would need to find somewhere to stay. He headed down town. Unlike most boys his age, Bridge liked books and he knew from plenty of reading that when one ran away they always searched for an abandoned warehouse. However, he did not remember the books describing how difficult it was to find a warehouse in the middle of a rainy night. 

He struggled on for what must have been hours, he was tired and hungry and his shoulder had begun throbbing from where it still had not entirely healed. Bridge stumbled, falling against the unforgiving concrete. The rain continued to soak into his skin heedless of his plight. 

Bridge knew he should get up. Knew he needed to get out of the rain, and do something about his back; but the weight of his exhaustion kept him on the ground. Now his head was pounding on the outside as well as within. 

He moaned in pain as something grabbed his injured shoulder and turned him over. He stared blearily up into a dark face. 

"You ok?"

It took the teen a few minutes to realize this person was talking to him.

"Fine," Bridge replied, dazed. 

"Ya sure you are," the other responded. "Come on." Bridge felt himself lifted to his feet. The person strung Bridge's arm over their shoulder and began dragging him. Bridge closed his eyes, realizing what a terrible Power Ranger he really was. He had not even made it to the academy!

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**Replies**

**Puggles Master: **Thank you so much! Coolness points for being the first to review! 

**Terrific Tina: **Thank you so much Ms. Terrific

**Blue November: **Thank you! Bridge is my favorite too. I don't get why SPD isn't as popular as some others...it was so much fun! -laughs- Buttery! Thank you so much for that!

**Nobody's Love:** Thank you so much! I Promise to update much fast next time

**AnaElise: **wow -blush- I'm flattered! Thank you so much! I always have trouble coming up with a summery...I'm glad you liked this one. I hope this chapter lives up also. Thank you so much!

**Hot Pink Girl: **He made it! Yay Bridge. Honestly if I killed off poor Bridge the only one who would be hurting is me. I love Bridge! My friend created and sowed me a Bridge doll for christmas...

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Everyone gave such nice reviews! You're all so sweet.

Keepin it Buttery always

-Zooky


	3. Chapter 3:Inadequacy

**AN: **I'm so tired I coul pass out. LOL sorry for the late update. Things have been crazy. Anyway I really wanted to answer each review, but as previously stated I am worn out...however I will answer every single one of them personally over the next week (just not in the chapter like normal) Thank you so much for your support! Everyone will get replies! I promise. I really do love reviews...especially the ones for this story everyone has been so sweet!

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**Chapter 3: Inadequacy **

Bridge pulled the jacket tightly around him, watching his rescuer preparing a fire. The person turned out to be a boy little older than himself. He had a dark complexion and long black hair. He had lent Bridge a dry jacket, but had little else to offer. Still, Bridge was glad to be out of the rain, even if the warehouse was not nearly as comfortable as the books always made them sound.

Bridge waited until the teen's back was turned, and then waved his hand carefully, revealing the colors floating around him. His rescuer had a gentle though sorrow filled aura.

The other boy finally managed to get the fire going, and he plopped down onto the dirty floor.

"Where are you headed kid?"

Bridge did not much like being called 'kid' by someone barely older than him, but shrugged it off.

"Ranger Academy Prep school," Bridge explained. He saw the other boy looking him over skeptically.

"Good luck with that," was all the boy said. "Want something to eat?" Bridge merely shook his head. He was not hungry. Fighting with his parents always caused him to lose his appetite. Bridge stifled a yawn.

"Can I stay here tonight?" he asked. The other teen nodded.

"Rest up," the boy responded "and tomorrow I'll take you to the Academy."

"Really?" Bridge asked, a yawn breaking through his excitement.

"Ya, cause there is no way you'd make it on your own."

--

Bridge trudged along behind his rescuer. It had been a long night. The other boy's sorrows had crept into his dreams, causing feelings of loneliness that lingered still after he was awake. Another curse of Bridge's 'gift'.

"We're here."

Bridge looked up at the familiar building.

"Thank you," he replied sincerely, turning to face his guide.

"Don't sweat it," the other answered with a shrug. Bridge turned back to the building when a thought struck him.

"Hey…what's your name?" he asked his rescuer. The other teen shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"The name's Jack." As the words left his mouth Bridge was distracted by some commotion over by the Ranger head quarters. He watched in awe as the A-squad Rangers came out, each riding a vehicle that coincided with their color. Bridge took in every detail, as his heart began to pound again. The same feeling from when he was watching that monster attack, weeks before returned full force. A longing he finally could name. More than anything else he wanted to be a Power Ranger.

--

Bridge walked into the Ranger Academy. The entrance was cold, but he was not sure if he was shaking from chills or from nerves. Slowly he walked up to the desk. The receptionist was a short green skinned woman, her purple hair speckled with gray. Bridge cleared his throat anxiously.

"Name?" she asked without looking up.

"Excuse me?" he replied.

"Name?" she squawked again, her voice holding all the appeal of nails being dragged across a chalkboard.

"Bridge Carson," the teen responded.

"I'll need your paper work and thumb print."

Bridge felt sweat forming on his brow. Would they know about the fake signature? With a steadying breath he pulled the paperwork out of his duffle bag, thanking his lucky stars that they were at least the only thing not to get wet. She took the papers and read over them quickly. She turned her gaze to him for the first time and gave him an appraising once over, taking in his damp clothes and sopping duffle bag. She narrowed her eyes but motioned toward the blue screen beside him. Bridge placed his thumb against it.

"Bridge Patrick Carson," the computer confirmed in its robotic voice.

"You've been expected," the receptionist informed him, still looking skeptical. "Head over to the barracks to get your orders." Bridge looked around but nothing seemed to be clearly marked.

"Barracks?"

"That way," she pointed down a long hall then looked back at her work. Bridge swallowed his worry and went the direction she indicated. People passed him by, not even giving him even a second glance. Everyone seemed to know where they were going. He had come here to escape the pressures of home, but standing in that crowded hallway he felt more alone and inadequate than every.

"Bridge?"

He looked up at the familiar voice and smiled with relief.

"Dr. Ma…Kat," he responded quickly rushing to her side. The calm radiating from her was like an anchor against his own emotions and the ones that had been filtering in his head since he entered the building.

"I'm so glad you made it," she said sincerely. If she noticed his rain haggard appearance she made no sign of it. "Shall we get you settled?" Bridge nodded and followed behind her.

She led him to a connected building full of hallways and doors. She explained this was the barracks. The Rangers and Academy students lived on the top few floors and the Prep School students stayed on the floors below.

She led him to a room on the second floor. It was plain and sparsely furnished with two beds, a desk in the corner and two small shelves. The one shelf contained a few books and a picture frame, the rest were empty. There was a closet off to the side and two windows casting the morning sunlight across the room.

"I hope this will be comfortable," Kat commented. "I know it's probably not what you're used too."

"It's great," Bridge responded as he made he lifted the picture frame. It was a snapshot of a boy with one of the red rangers from earlier days.

"That belongs to your roommate," Kat explained. "You should meet him in a few weeks; right now he is away on personal leave." Kat gave him the remaining instructions, handing him his uniform and offering to have his other belongings dried. She gave him directions before being called away.

Bridge changed into his uniform and lay down on the bed. He felt drained and overwhelmed. As he laid his head against the soft pillow he wondered again if this was the right choice.

--

Bridge walked into the large gymnasium. He looked at the other students and felt his gut drop. Each one was muscular and most of the guys were at least a foot taller than him, probably even years older. He prayed there would be no sparring, because he realized he would only be a match for the girls…well maybe the smaller girls.

Bridge knew he saw a few of them snicker as he walked by to take his place in the line up. A tall robust man walked in. His entrance instantly caused the other students to straighten up.

He walked passed the line, sizing up each student carefully. After a painfully long wait he came to Bridge. He looked over the teenager, his eyes saying the things Bridge felt.

"Who are you?" the man barked.

"Bridge Carson, sir," the teen tried not to cringe at his own shaking voice.

"You're new?"

"Yes sir."

"Age?"

"Thirteen sir." The man raised his eyebrow. Kat had told Bridge that thirteen was the minimum age for entering the Prep school and even still most of the students were older.

"You won't make it a week."

Bridge looked on in shock as his new teacher walked away. The comment had been mumbled in passing but its meaning rung deeply in the teenager's heart. It was the words he had heard his whole life. He was not good enough. Not smart enough. Not stable enough. Not sane enough. The words changed but the meaning never did.

--

Bridge collapsed in his room, not bothering to drag himself to the bed. He ached in places he did not know _could_ ache. After hours of training and academic schooling he was sore both in body and mind. More than that, he felt his courage dwindling. Now that the anger had passed he was scared out of his wits.

They were right. He knew he could not do it. Most of these students had been training for years before even attempting the Prep school. Some of them—like his roommate to be—were even related to Power Rangers. They were strong of body and spirit, something he had never been. He was out of shape and small for his age.

"Who am I fooling?" Bridge sighed. _Probably no one. _He pulled himself up and looked in the mirror. It had been a rough day. Other than his gym teacher most of the professors had been at least civil to him, but the students were just plain awful. Mostly he was ignored, but he had not missed the whispered comments or random glares.

It got so bad he ended up just skipping lunch to avoid the other students, and he really was not hungry despite the gnawing in his gut.

He was a joke. His parents were right…

They're words came rushing back, causing the blood to rise to his face. He narrowed his eyes and headed back for the gym.

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**Parting Shot: **Poor Bridge, I feel so bad for him...and I'm writting the story. LOL. Anyways next chapter is "The Collapse" hmm


	4. Chapter 4: The Collapse

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**AN: **Alright this is the last chapter in part 1, part 2 will be coming soon. And my muse is back! Yay!! So sit back and enjoy!

Also some have meantioned the length of my chapters, so part 2 I will try and make them longer. Thanks for the feedback!

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**Chapter 4: The Collapse**

Katstood in the doorway of the gym. It was well past school hours and all of the students were in their rooms resting, all but one. She watched as Bridge continued his rigorous training. It had been two weeks since he came to the Academy. She had heard about his rough first day, but he was trying to make the best of it. He was becoming stronger each day and becoming quite lean, she noticed.

When she first took it before Commander Crougar to let Bridge in, he had been unsure. So Kat took it upon herself to prove that her intuition was right. Bridge needed to be a Ranger. She could not honest pinpoint why, but the feeling was too strong to ignore. So she went to his old school. All of his teachers said basically the same thing.

_"He's such a bright kid, bit of an over active imagination though…"_

_ "He comes up with the most off the wall statements. He confuses you, but I've learned he is normally right."_

_ "He thinks outside the box, never lets himself be limited to what other people tell him to do."_

_ "He was always such a sweet boy, quick to laugh and smile. But he's been a lot quieter recently…"_

Kat leaned against the doorframe. He had been pretty quite. She remembered him shutting down the first time they met, almost not letting himself voice his thoughts. Part of her had hoped that bringing him here would help, but he seemed to be even more introverted.

"He's so young," she whispered. She walked a little into the room. "Bridge." He looked up and gave a forced smile. Kat did not miss the bags under his eyes, or the way his chest rose and fell with exhausted heaves.

"Kat."

"It's late, you should get some rest," she encouraged trying not to let the concern leak too heavily into his voice.

"Ya, just a few more minutes and I'll be done," he replied, turning back to his exercises. Kat resisted the urge to say something. He was just trying to prove himself; the last thing he would want was advice. When had she become such a mother hen? Kat smiled softly.

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow."

Bridge watched her leave. He liked Kat Manx, and she seemed to be the only one in this place that gave him a second thought.

He lifted the weights up with some difficulty. A week ago he could not even get this one off the ground…

Bridge blinked; not understanding what he was seeing. Suddenly he realized he was staring at the ceiling. The teen forced himself to sit up, his muscles screaming in protest. He was lying on the floor of the gym, next to the weight he had been lifting. Bridge felt a deep ache in his gut and his head was hurting.

_Did I just pass out?_

He slowly got to his feet and watched the room spin round him. His stomach growled loudly. Bridge stumbled out of the gym and aimed himself toward his room. He had not eaten anything that day; in fact, he had not eaten very much since he came to the Academy. He had been extremely focused, spending every spare moment training himself, and it had paid off. He was already holding his own much better in gym. That and food held no real taste for him anymore. He ate enough to stay conscious—at least most of the time—but anymore would just set him back. Also, food meant eating with the others. Not a pleasant experience, to say the least.

Bridge managed to stumble to his room, using the wall as support. He collapsed on the bed, feeling exhaustion sweeping him away instantly. He would eat tomorrow…tonight he needed sleep.

--

Bridge walked into the large common room where the students shared their meals. He hated this place. With a sigh he grabbed his food. He cast a glance around the room and picked a spot off in the corner.

He felt the intensity of the emotions in the room. Some reason in here it was so profound and loud. He felt the intensity of it collapsing in around him. He tried to focus on the food he was eating, but that was only serving to make him sick.

Abandoning his tray he made a dash for his room.

--

Bridge leaned his head against the cold porcelain, feeling tired and weaker than ever. Slowly he lifted himself from the floor and gazed in the mirror. His first reaction was to cringe. He looked pale and sick, and on top of that he was shaking. Bridge ran a wet towel across his face.

The teen stumbled into his room and fell onto the bed. He heard the door open slowly. Bridge forced his eyes open and managed to push himself up on his elbows. There in the doorway stood a boy about his age. He had short blonde hair and striking blue eyes, his posture was firm and tense but there was an easiness about him that instantly set Bridge at rest.

"Bridge Carson?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm your roommate, Sky Tait."


End file.
